


The unexpected journey of John Watson

by Froschkoenig



Category: (tiny little bit), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froschkoenig/pseuds/Froschkoenig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"John Watson was so deep in the closet that he passed through Narnia..." John discovers feelings for Sherlock that he never knew he had. Wandering through Narnia. Oneshot after a tumblr-post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The unexpected journey of John Watson

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/293015519478026200/ That's the tumblr post where I got the idea for this OS...  
>  It's a little silly and I actually wrote it for a friend as a Christmas present. (Not to be continued, I'm sorry)  
> SPN and Sherlock (and at best Doctor Who) crossovers are just the best... so have fun!

An unexpected journey...

 

John Watson was so deep in the closet that he passed through Narnia and got into Middle Earth. It wasn't exactly like he had planned on doing this journey, but he was still deep in denial, after all. 

John didn't even remember his life before he met Sherlock Holmes, but he knew one thing for sure: He never wanted to live without him. Sherlock was the best companion, friend and consulting detective, and every time they solved a crime together John felt less like a war veteran and more like a capable human being. 

He was really content with his life right now, short for those tiny little moments when he started to doubt who he was and what Sherlock was to him. These seconds right after some weird paparazzi shouted something at them, or when the waitress at a restaurant thought they were a couple. Whenever that happened, John tried to find out what made Sherlock's gaze flicker and why his belly felt so weird and sometimes he even imagined for a second what would happen if he just took Sherlock's hand in his.  
How it would make him feel.

But he never did, and Sherlock always explained that no, they weren't a couple and please, stop asking personal – and stupid – questions. John admired him for this, for handling situations like this professional and without emotion. But that was Sherlock, he was always able to tune down everything unimportant and in his opinion emotions were dangerous and only hindered him from working properly. 

Caring is not an advantage.

John remembered Microfts words oh so clearly. Both of the Holmes brothers thought like that, and even though John had worked with them for years, he hardly saw them showing any emotion whatsoever. 

But when... when Sherlock smiled. For him, a real smile... when that happened, everything was different. But John didn't want to think about that now and he especially did not want to disturb Sherlock, who was sleeping silently on the couch in their living room. He must have fallen asleep there, thinking. He did this a lot. Thinking. Not like normal people, though, but for hours straight. And when Sherlock thought about something, he would not let anything disturb him in his Mind Palace. John knew that not even he himself was allowed to do so.  
So he went up to Sherlock, took a soft blanket from a chair and put it on top of Sherlock's lean body. The man didn't even move, he just kept breathing softly.  
John smiled as he looked down on Sherlock, who laid there, curled up like he always slept, and it took him everything not to touch one of Sherlock's dark curls. For a moment he couldn't breathe, the urge to hold his best friend was overwhelming.

But he did fight it, and he won.

He went to his room, got ready for bed and tried to stop thinking about whatever this had to mean. What it meant that he just couldn't stop thinking about this one special person. Even though he worked so hard to distract himself, and went on dates like this night, with a lovely lady named Maria. Or Melissa. Or maybe Melinda, he wasn't sure, and honestly he didn't even care. 

After what felt like hours he finally fell asleep.

*

John opened his eyes slowly. It was dark around him, and when he tried to get up, he felt something soft and furry hanging down over him. And like that wasn't odd enough, it smelled a little bit like old clothes and also like snow. John remembered the days when he had been a little kid and he spent the first day of snow in the woods right next to his family's house.  
It was pretty cold and from far left he saw light, so he moved in that direction, through what seemed to be dozens of thick fur coats.

As soon as John reached the end of the coats, he knew that he wasn't dreaming. He felt the cold and wet snow falling down on him, and he shuddered because he wore nothing but his pyjama pants. John stepped fully outside and looked around, it seemed like he was in a forest, and it was snowing heavily. But the weirdest thing was the atmosphere. Even though John was freezing and confused, he felt warm inside and somehow at home.

He took a few steps and looked up in the almost black sky, where just a few stars shone. Although he started to get worried, John wasn't afraid. Maybe this wasn't a dream, but it sure as hell wasn't real either. So he walked around in this wondrous winter world. 

Half an hour later, he thought he saw a shadow. A movement behind a bush, but as the turned it was gone. He could have sworn it was a young man in a flannel shirt and with short brown hair. For a second John was sure he knew him from somewhere, and that maybe he should follow him, but the thought was gone as quick as the hiding guy. Maybe it wasn't his time yet, maybe that person wasn't ready yet.

After a while he heard some music playing, it sounded familiar, like he had heard it before. Expectantly John walked further into the woods, almost mesmerized by the soft whisper of music. Only minutes later he recognized the instrument: It was a violin.

Sherlock played the violin.

And even though John hadn't heard Sherlock play it for what felt like forever, he sped up his steps and jogged through the trees and the soft snow under his bare feet.

When he reached a little clearing, he knew he found it. The music, Sherlock, home, everything.

John hadn't known he was looking for something, but here it was. Sherlock was standing in the middle of the clearing, playing the violin with soft movements and watching him.

„Sherlock?“ John whispered, but Sherlock only smiled, and then he closed his eyes again, playing even more passionately and lovely than before.

John just stood there, staring. He never knew how far in the closet he was, but he never let himself think about Sherlock like he did now.  
He never thought that Sherlock was beautiful and so careful with him, and that his smile made him feel giddy and happy. He knew Sherlock was one of the good guys, but he never appreciated it as he did now.

Also, he never felt so possessive, like even the thought of someone else touching his Sherlock drove him mad. And right now, standing there, he felt so alive, and as he stepped forward to finally hold what was his and only his, Sherlock opened his eyes and nodded encouraging.

John thought for a second that maybe this was a dream after all. But it didn't matter because even if it was, he needed to use this one chance he had to really do what he had wanted for years now. And if he woke up and forgot everything and Sherlock was still as distant as ever and he, John, was back in the closet, so be it.


End file.
